'Many a new day... I'll scrub my neck and I'll brush my hair and start all over again." My father, Oklahoma, life, hope.

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant

 Author's program note. He waited a spell before he said it, no doubt carefully  looking for just the right moment to tell me, knowing that the intelligence would be  unwelcome, even unsettling, certainly life changing, therefore potentially dangerous,  a thing to be approached and dealt with as if holding a radio active element with tongs.  Yes, hazardous indeed...

 "I'm going to do it," he said... I didn't need to be told what "it" was, I knew. And  to tell the strict truth, he had laid down a trail of clues, hints and innuendos for  months just like Hansel and Gretel with their bread crumbs. But that was just conjecture,  a possibility, table talk to be treated as serious or not depending on how many pieces  of pie had been ingested whilst the subject was under discussion. One slice meant not  likely, two suggested a distinct possibility, and any more than two he was packing his trunk  bidding the world to catch up or eat his dust... and there is nothing more serious than  that.

 Quo vadis?

 Could it be just as simple as the simple fact that humans like to see what is on the other  side of that hill over yonder? "Why did the chicken cross the road?", my father used to  ask the unwary. "Why, to get to the other side", and then he'd laugh as you would laugh  at a rube from the city who didn't know up from down. Maybe we're programmed by the  Ultimate Authority to leave hearth and home... in pursuit of the "something  better"  we're sure is our individual and collective destiny.

 I used to wonder about this when I was growing up. Why did Abraham Lincoln's family,  for instance, move so much... to Virginia...to Kentucky... to Indiana... to Illinois? Were  they reckless, feckless, incapable of staying put and turning the good into the better?

 Or were they far sighted visionaries who had to go because remaining would have  been so much easier and thus beneath them, for they were a proud, assertive people  and knew they were worthy of any benefit they might dream of and seize?

 They called that destiny, and it was manifest to each of them... and so they went on  their travels to achieve it... as they so often did. To move was to live and so they must  go until their very last journey to their eternal destination.

 Just a year ago.

 It's been just about a year now since this journey seemed likely for him. His wife,  my step-mother Miss Ellie, slipped into the hereafter as easily as taking a breath. We  were advised to expect the worst, at any time.

 As for him he looked like he was waiting for the Grim Reaper to open the door of the  Black Mariah and escort him to forever. He suddenly seemed ancient, frail, ready,  resigned, even eager for what was coming.

 Waiting seemed pointless, aggravating, irritating, and a threat to the perfect tableau  of death we were all constructing, more to show ourselves that we had given him a  good send-off, the send-off he had waited a lifetime to get and which must showcase  him with all due respect, love, and the certainty that he had received his due, every jot  and tittle.

 "I'm ready for whenever the Good Lord takes me". The vital concerns of daily  life were no longer part of his reality. He had put his foot on the next road, the  final road... but in the event he did not commence the journey.

 Everything, everyone was ready for the new, sleek, easy as snap, crackle, and pop,  3-step, "Howdie, ma'am", quick speed, strip the corpse and burn it American way of  death, prayers extra. We were awaiting this... we were prepared for this... we knew  how to do this. But then the unexpected occurred, the thing that upset the apple cart.  He lived. And this startled us, astounded us, and forced us to change the game plan,  just as he was having to do. ("I can still catch the 4.45 to Chicago if I run.")

 What is it that causes a man whose deteriorating condition has prompted the urgent  and adamant communications of a posse of medical  personnel to stop the process  of withdrawal and expiration and live again?

 The sapient physicians will cite a given tablet or therapy. Family members and friends  will speak confidently of the infinite power of love, whilst the still living being at the  center of the conundrum says God's will, which despite a legion of disbelieving  scientists remains credible, vibrant, and reassuring. And so the first of many a new  day dawned on an enigma, with awe, relief, joy, and a renewed commitment to life, the  most important condition of our human reality, for without it nothing is possible. With it,  everything is.

 "O Death where is thy sting?" Now what?

 The process of dying is the average Joe's only opportunity to enjoy the prerogatives  and privileges of a prince. At the court of  Louis XIV, for instance, when the king was  ill, and especially when the king lay dying (1715) the smell of his gangrene overpowered  the combined perfumes of the gentlemen of France. Learned physicians from the  Sorbonne in their long, sweeping silk gowns would troop ensemble to la chambre  du roi to sniff his evacuations and render their opinion about his longevity; an opinion  on which the future of many gentlemen rested, for to be too early in leaving the  old regime... or too late in embracing the new... had the most serious consequences.  "Charme' " was the highest rating for what they passed in chamber pot under their  fastidious noses and minute review. "Charme'" meant life.

 In our death averse civilization, where we hope that mentioning the matter as little  as possible will forestall its certain existence and execution, each of us becomes as  much the center of affairs as the Sun King himself.

 As death approaches, we are admitted, weighed, dieted, measured, wheel chaired,  analyzed, observed, discussed, considered, reconsidered, lamented, wept over,  wept for, babied, prayed for, praised, kissed (including by total strangers), fluffed,  boxed, organized, advised, critiqued, photographed, questioned, listened to,  eulogized, spruced up, sent flowers, sent candy, send cakes and cookies... and this  is only part of our way of death.

 All this is done for you on the expectation that you will do your share,  namely be as upbeat and cheerful as possible; that you will go through all the  necessary and inevitable steps promptly, without inconveniencing anyone by  failing to adhere to their (always brisk) schedule for your demise, and that at the  end of the day you die... allowing the final obsequies to occur and every cliche in  the calendar thought, given, photographed, videotaped, and complimented by  one and all at how well it had gone. Next!

 But he did not die despite the panoply of preparations, expectations, and the  learned opinions of every professional engaged in the matter. The lead physician in  the case called me one afternoon and told me with the polished certainties of the  medical ilk that death was scheduled for T minus 5 hours and counting. And that  was that.

 Only it wasn't.

 To the surprise of all, including the principal actor himself, the consternation of  many, and the downright irritation of some (those whose prayers and presentations  had been the most ostentatious), the man known to history as Donald Marshall  Lant lived... thereby being continued in the dicey, unpredictable, messy and  often baffling business of living, rather than the adamant certainties of death.

 For instance, when he returned alive to the dining room of the assisted living  facility where he had last been discussed and hugged as a certain goner, there  was a notable frisson, as if he had farted in the elevator; it was, it seemed, mal vu  to return alive after such a perfect farewell. "Forgotten but not gone", as one wag  quipped.

 What a comedown for the man who expected to wake up in the bosom of the  Lord, amongst the saints who are marching in, most assuredly one of their  high-stepping number. But instead he lived... and that was the greatest gift of all,  the rest certain to occur in due course but put aside for now. There could still  be, would be dreams... and these dreams could still come true in the many a  new day that were now his.

 Thus he was informing me, not asking my permission or inviting my opinion  but acting like the patriarch he had been for so long. He was leaving the California  where he had lived so long and with such comfort and contentment and moving  to Oklahoma. He had a list of "reasons" at the ready, my brother and his simpatica  wife of long standing were near at hand, the cost of living was dramatically  lower, and, perhaps though unstated, the poignant memories of Miss Ellie were  too potent and bittersweet in the suite where they had loved and lost each other.

 But there was, I think, one more reason, that to stay ensconced in the verdant  grandeur of California was like waiting for the inevitability of death, a condition  that sapped the joy from everything and left him dispirited and low. Motion meant  life... and he still had life to spend and in abundance.

 Thus whilst I advanced reasons for caution and deliberation, his mind and imagination  raced ahead, Rodgers and Hammerstein giving him in "Oklahoma" (1943) not just one  of the most lyric of their incomparable repertoire but the best reason of all: I sang off key   "Many a new face will please my eye", and he instantly responded off key, "Many a  new love will find me." Then I knew for a certainty many a new day would dawn for him  and that these would be the best of all.

 Envoi.

 Go now to any search engine, and play "Many A New Day" and let this plucky song work its happy magic for you.



About the Author

 Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is the author of over a dozen best selling business and marketing books, several ebooks as well as over one thousand articles on a variety of topics. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com.

'I've been workin' on my rewrite, that's right.' An open letter to a young friend who wants to be a scribbler.

Author's program note. I saw the way you looked at that photo of me on the  back of my first book. I looked so young, well-scrubbed, brushed and combed,  so smart with a dollop of profound sensitivity about the mouth, supposing I was  ready for anything, not even knowing the questions needing to be answered, much  less the answers themselves.  '  While your father, who is the best friend you'll ever have in this world (just help  him show you) uttered the expected pleasantries to ascertain how I was  faring on Spaceship Earth and what mischief I was bringing to the world these  days, I really looked at you in that disconcerting way I have. Your eyes, that  fleeting look offered nothing less than the first real confession of your young life.  And it was nothing less than a revelation and best kept under cerebral lock  and key for infrequent reminding.

 You saw that picture of me and understood, if only for a minute, that I had once been  as young as you are today, as young and determined, fortified by ardor and bold  audacity. You saw me... and thought about yourself, as one does. It was no longer  my photo on that cover... it was yours and the magic of the photographer's craft  mixed with the total fire power you packed into that glance made for an image to  make the indolent world sit up and take notice. You had arrived... you were ready  to astonish and awe... you had something to say and the words to say it... and were  determined the world should hear it.

 And then you heard your so decent, ever practical father say, "Look at the electrical  outlets, son. Dr. Lant was just telling me they're solid gold.", and he gave one of them  a good smart tap reiterating the words to ensure you understood what he'd said.  Words per se might mean nothing to your dad, but words that produced the  dazzling ostentation of gold electrical outlets were well worth the understanding.  The man who could throw away good money on self-indulgent lavishness was  a man worth knowing, and that's a fact. And so I was...

 ...and so I did what folks blessed with the riches of knowledge must do to justify their  existence... they must share, and not just insipid platitudes either, but as much naked,  undeniable truth as their youthful auditor can stand, and even more.

 For in such a conversation we elders transfer our civilization and learned achievements  to the only people who matter at such a time, our successors; the people we must  instruct or lose the best of who we are. And so I, notoriously brusque and impatient.  resolve to speak to you slowly, with care and thoughtful consideration, but mostly and  above all else with the unvarnished truth, so help me, God.

 A curriculum for young scribblers, things no one but a successful writer can tell  you.

 Every word in this intimate and necessary epistle between the present and the  future which will, and all too soon, be the present some day, is vital. Every word is honest  and such may disconcert and even affront you and your painfully young and ill-informed  ideas. We must both understand that I know far more than you do; a thought you might  not like or even acknowledge...

  ... this could be construed as arrogance and crippling conceit... on your part. It is  certainly insensitive. Still we must both recognize that there is an urgency about our need  to understand each other and a deep fear almost palpable, that I (or any writer of my  generation) shall forget to tell you something of significance or, worse, that having told you  something of such significance, you will not heed it, to the detriment of each generation's  master plan for keeping the whole thing rolling along and of constantly increasing utility and  knowledge.    I now take this opportunity to introduce you to another writer, brilliant lyricist, heart touching  songster, a master poet, hence meticulous word handler. His name is Paul Simon (born  1947), and if you are round about my age (67 this year) you would have grown up with his  shibboleths, whimsies, condescensions, cleverness, never convenient truths, admonitions,  larks and bombastic, hummable moralistic rages all just a radio dial away, always master of  the searing truth so difficult for so many to see and acknowledge, but critical if we are ever  to inhabit the Promised Land, or even find the direction to it, staying thereafter on the adamant  and always challenging path.

 Simon's song "Rewrite" (from the 2011 album "So Beautiful Or So What") should  be required reading (and immediately accessible posting)  by every writer, aspiring or  otherwise. It is about a young writer who confides in the auditor just what his version of  the writer's craft is all about. "Every minute after midnight, all the time I'm spending/ Is just  for workin' on my rewrite, that's right/ I'm gonna turn it into cash."

 But Simon knows, and we elder statespeople of the writer's craft know, that Simon's writer  is delusional. He's not a writer, he is a seeker after big bucks. If he can't conjure what  he needs from "where the father has a breakdown", he'll do it by substituting "a car chase  and a race across the rooftops/ Where the father saves the children and he holds them  in his arms. "This isn't writing." master stylist and writing pioneer Truman Capote once  sniffed. "It's typewriting," that is to say bogus, facile, insincere and superficial.

 If you're destined to be a writer, you must do better, lots better, and  I am doing you the  favor to tell you what that is.

 Memorize the dictionary.

 Your writing is laboriously assembled and crafted from the words you know. The more  words you know and use, the better and more completely you can render human reality...  and, make no mistake about it, that is what all writers do, good, bad, or indifferent. We tell  what happens to humans... everything that happens; their struggles, their dreams, their  aspirations, their love affairs that end in misery, the ones that end in tears and tribulation,  the ones that start in love and end in sublimity and awe.

 Every word we master and use enables us to tell the more complete and accurate  truth about the reality we know and can, in nuanced measure, describe more accurately  once we have the words at our command, when we finally understand what love really  is and can do.

 We can, we must work to do this because it is only when we have the words that  we can even attempt to write the whole truth and nothing but the truth...and, it is only  when we have truth that writing transcends the mundane and allows us to approach God  who is the embodiment of truth and the ultimate destination of every writer whatever  story he tells.

 On your dawning love affair with words... and the truth they reveal and convey.

 How many words do you know today? To the extent  to which you mean to write, the  correct answer is "too few, far too few."  This is not merely a fact; it is a declaration of  immediate commitment and lifelong purpose. If you mean to write, you must here  and now pledge yourself to words, for only then can you succeed in achieving your  objective.

 Thus, pledge yourself to learning just three new words every day.  "Just that?", you say  Yes, just that, which means just this.

 Open the dictionary (whether online or off; I use both).

 Take a 3"x5" card and write the word you have decided to embrace.

 Put it on your tongue, taste it, savor it with the understanding that if you can  incorporate it into your very essence you will be a better person, a smarter person,  a person with yet another puissant tool, the better to achieve your objective, and  ultimately your grand goal. This is how you craft yourself. This is what you must do  to be the world-changing eminence you can become... leaving the rest behind,  those who might have been but without such effort they will never be.

 Now use the word in a sentence or two. Do not just have the word, employ the word.  The actual word and its part of speech should go on one side of the card; its definition  on the reverse. These are now your flash cards. Treat them with the importance they  deserve.

 You have now taken the first step. You have told yourself what you mean to do...  and you have begun to do it. Now continue. If this is your avocation, your mission,  then do it, and it must become your destiny.

 Envoi.

 Too often Paul Simon has come across as sanctimonious, condescending,  hectoring, superior, aloof and dismissive, but not in this song or this album, to  which I listened with the felicity of an open mind and ear. Now in his late  sixties, he sounds like an engaging and completely charming adolescent,  and for that I say, " 'Thank you/ I'd no idea that you were there' pleased to  meet you' ". Go to any search engine and listen to him all over again.


About the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is the author of over a dozen best selling marketing and business books, as well as several ebooks and over one thousand online articles on a variety of topics. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com.

'Let's give them something to talk about/ a little mystery to figure out.' Worldprofit's Salesperson of the year 2013. Linda Elze. More on top than ever... 'Now that we know it, let's really show it, Darlin'.

by Dr. Jeffrey Lant

 Author's program note. The lady was persistent, a total pest, never say die, always  right there wherever I was. She was. And maybe that's the real reason I'm writing  this article today; an article of congratulation, for she's a jolly good fellow, and  hip hip hurrah. You see, I've been in this exact situation before with  her... not just once or twice, either... let's just say oodles and leave it at that.

 And to think she once pulled that woman-in-tears thing on me, begging me to let  her go and forbid her from every going on the screen again... that territory she  was soon to make all her own, the envy of every man and woman whose smile  was not incandescent and who didn't know a million ways to get the prospect off  the dime, another sale, sir; another victory lap and for good measure a happy  dance or two.

 I was brutal, more James Cagney than James Dean. And those tears made me  angry, livid, Rhett Butler the night he carried Scarlett up the grand staircase to  nirvana... I mean, she wanted to work with me, she said; she wanted to touch the  lives of countless millions and improve those lives, she said. She wanted to help  little old men across the street and win Girl Scout merit badges for her skill at  summer camp leatherwork and beads.

 Thus, I let her do what she insisted she wanted... now she was sobbing telling me  she wasn't up to the job and wanted out... sheesh... what next!  The "what next?"  steps went something like this.... Get up, stop crying, get a grip, child, and for the  next 7 days be me... a super duper me composed of all your good traits and all  of mine. Fly high, don't snivel, and don't lay that "poor lil' me" routine on me.

 She hated me at that moment. Was seething inside. Make-up running down  her livid cheeks. She wanted to spit in my face; she wanted to say the things  that make sailors blush; wanted to tell me I was an effete, spoiled brat whose  future lay in the cooking pot of a discerning cannibal with a taste for preppies en  brochette. She wanted to say that... and a whole lot  more.

 And she would have, too, given world enough and time. But I didn't have the  time or inclination to stand by and listen to more of her malarkey. Curt, sharp,  abrupt, I spat out the only question that mattered at that moment of High Destiny --  for both of us.

 It was take-it-or-leave it, spit in the palm of your hand and shake, a gentlemen's  agreement between two angry people who were not at that moment gentlemen,  either of them, not even remotely close.

 And so the greatest and longest-running war on Spaceship Earth -- the war of  the sexes -- started a new chapter. She vowed she'd show me... show me she  was no quitter; show me she was good, kind, giving, the soul of charity and here's  your chicken soup, honey; it'll do you a world of good. Oh, yeah, she'd show me all  right... after all nobody, absolutely nobody needed a good taking down more than I  did, blah, blah, blah. God, I love my job and every fast-moving spat and altercation....  especially since I was in a no-lose position. If she failed, she'd disappear into the  hapless hordes of the also-rans; if she didn't.... oh, mama!

 And so the "I'll show you" game began, both battle-scarred veterans; both with a  taste for blood... for sweet victory.... and a  penchant for the coolest dance music  and gyrating limbs worth the look and prolonged, eat-your-heart-out attention.  Thus, I give you "Something To Talk  About",  Bonnie  Raitt's 1991 mega-hit.  Oh, yeah, she'd show me all right and give everyone on terra firma something  to talk about. Go now to any search engine and seize the music that seizes you  and puts energetic bounce in your step, every step.

 So armed, so ready, fueled by irritation, exasperation and an acute grudge  against the ever suave and charming CEO, me, the lady went forth to battle...  and history. She was pint-sized but her determination, honed by the challenge  I threw down, was not. She was Killer Kowalski in bunny slippers, her hair roots  perfectly matched, her vitamin of choice the very best chocolates money could buy.  And so, armed by Saint Christopher, she commenced the epic journey of her  life, a journey she knew she couldn't lose... absolutely had to win...

 The thousand mile journey begins with a single step... and she took it. This is  what she did.

 Item: She made making daily, even hourly, sales her objective. She didn't just  go forth to conquer. She went forth with a specific objective her clear and  considered goal.

 Item: She was a constant and faithful participant in Worldprofit's celebrated  bootcamp program. Invented, delivered and perfected by master technician  George Kosch, co-founder of the enterprise, she came early, listened carefully,  questioned assiduously, and advanced inexorably. She made it a point of honor  not merely to listen to George but to study him and his resourceful, timely, and  proven results.

 She wanted to be his best pupil, his most successful and profitable pupil, and in  due course she was, with the bank deposit slips to prove it. Others might claim they  did as much... but the lady acted, her mastery of the necessary steps confirmed in  cold, hard cash.

 Item: George Kosch told her the list is the business, the business is the list.  George Kosch told her the money's in the list. And so she followed his lucid,  clear, sensible, proven steps EVERY SINGLE DAY. She might have skipped  a day... or two... or whole weeks. Others did and freely justified their poor  habits by any number of glib excuses. But this lady NEVER DID. This was her  mantra:

 I promote when I feel like it. I promote when I don't.  I promote on days my beloved granddaughter visits. I promote when she doesn't.  I promote when it's sunny. I promote when it isn't.  I promote! Promote! Promote in an entirely excuse-free zone!

 It took commitment, dedication, grit and determination.

 And it took heart... and this she brought to the table in joyous excess. See for  yourself...

 Where others could not be bothered to talk to the members of their organizations,  the lady called each and every one of them. She didn't tell me this. She didn't have  to. I saw it happening and saw how she turned the nervous, the clueless, the  uncertain and feckless into real business people, people who now made money  and improved their lives because she sought them out, soothed them, and invested  herself in them with the happiest of results.

 She was patient, she was unrelenting, she was efficient, she was omnipresent  always taking them by the hand, giving even to those whose habits were appalling  and ability to follow directions non-existent. She gave. The lady gave. Then she  gave some more, never mind she was tired, fatigued and exhausted. She was the  embodiment of commitment and where she gave her word and hand she gave her  heart. And it is this that raised her from the merely accomplished, proficient and  successful to the enduring rank of champion... for in this she is without challenger,  without peer, without equal, not merely primus inter pares but primus overall, for this  is the magic of heart. It takes the merely good and accomplished, the solely  excellent and proficient and turns them into champions, the best of who we are  as humans, the best of who we can be.

 Thus today I give you Worldprofit's Salesperson of the Year for 2013....

 Linda Elze, the lady once determined to show me... the lady who long ago  showed the world not only how to win but how to ensure that everyone touched by  her magic can win, too. This is why we honor her today...  and  why she is a  model for us everyday, the lady who always gives us something to talk about,  something to emulate... something to strive for... and always with love.


About the Author Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses including website hosting, software, traffic tools, online home business training and support. Find out why over the last 20 years Worldprofit has grown to be the popular choice for web-based home business training. Get a free Worldprofit Associate Membership and join our worldwide home business community. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com. 

Online eBusiness Opportunities - 25 Things you may not know about the POWER of a Worldprofit Silver or Platinum VIP Membershipto help you build your successful online business.

Did you know this about your Worldprofit Silver or Platinum Membership?

You have an Affiliate Center that allows you to quickly and easily add code to your website for any and ALL your other affiliate programs.

You have a Prospect Manager System that allows you to quickly enter and organize your prospects alphabetically, by category by type  and follow up date. Then you can email your prospects offers to drum up sales.

You have unlimited access to the MONEY MAKERS Promo Kit - currently loaded with 47 products you can promote with the click of a button to earn 100% commission on sales.

You have a complete Website management system. This means you can make changes or additions to your website as often as you like.  You get the Worldprofit Dealership with eligibility to earn commissions from 20 - 80%. Refer sales of Worldprofit services and earn 20% as a Silver member, and 30% as a Platinum VIP Member. Consult the list of resale items in your Member area to learn how much commission you earn as well as qualify for up to $1,000 in bonuses for New Sales Volume.

You get monthly Traffic injections! Silver Members get the basic injection, while Platinum VIP Members get both solo and email privileges at the VIP level.

You have unlimited access to the Advertising/Traffic section - filled with promo codes, ad swipes, free advertising, banners, automated promotion methods, recommended free and low cost advertising sources and more to use to promote any and ALL your affiliates.

You have unlimited access to the Link Manager to help you organize your opportunities and websites.

You get OVER 2500 articles that you can use on your blog, your newsletter, or e-books to generate leads and traffic.

You can easily create your own custom e-book, we provide you with the software to do so. Heck, we even provide over 2500 articles you can use to create your own ebook as a lead generator.

You get your own blog - add to it your social profile and links to all your opportunities for even more exposure.

You can post unlimited ads to the Worldprofit Marketplace - that's right just one more way you can promote whatever you like.

You get the SEO Power Pak with SEO tools, techniques as well as the Auto SEO Promo Tool Kit. It's all in your member area, including a video series devoted just to SEO tactics.

You get unlimited access to Worldprofit's Home Business Bootcamp Training - 75 online lessons many with videos and screen shots to help you understand concepts, software and tools all related to online marketing and income generation.

You get unlimited access to LIVE training EVERY Friday - marketing expert George Kosch is there for you every Friday to answer your questions, provide training and do on screen demonstrations of what you need to do and understand to make consistent online income.

You get unlimited access to ad swipes, banners, landing pages, e-books, text ads and more to generate leads and traffic AND build your email marketing list.

At your fingertips is unlimited access to the Offer Builder - you get not one but two Offer Builders - use these to build offers and help close sales in ANY PROGRAM you are involved.

Includes is access to over 250 PLR products for your personal use if you are a Silver Member, and that you can offer for 100% commission sales as a Platinum VIP Member

You get your own newsletter that includes templates, or custom create your own offers to send out to your e-mailing list.

You have MULTIPLE streams of income built into your Member area to help you make as much money as possible.  Look in the Money Makers section and the FastCash program and in the Advertising/Traffic section to see for yourself.

You get an Ad Tracker tool so you can judge whether your advertising is getting you clicks, or not. VERY important for every marketer.

Platinum VIP Members you get the unlimited use Autoresponder already to go with 12 income programs already loaded!

You get access to the Magic List Builder - building your email marketing list is easy with this very popular tool.

Don't forget about the WHO'S LOGGED IN feature in your Member area, once you know how to generate Associate sign ups, this tools allows you to know when they have logged in, so you can quickly follow up by knowing who's active.

The Banner Promo Kit is a huge hit with our Members, we provide you with banners for several money making programs, and you simply click a button to add the ones of your choice to your website.

Finally, remember that you have Worldprofit's LIVE BUSINESS Center manned with Monitors 24 hours a day. These incredible Monitors VOLUNTEER their time to help members of our community make sales. You do the promotion, by simply referring people to our Live Business Center, when they login  our Monitors greet them and make them an offer to upgrade to a paid Membership.  You earn a commission for those Associates who convert from a free membership to a paid membership. In other words, we are helping to close YOUR sales 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.  We provide you with all the promotion tools, we make suggestions for you to advertise and promote, then we close your referrals for you. Top that off with the fact that our Worldprofit Support Team is available to you 7 days a week and you can be confident help is available when you need it.

Worldprofit - Home Business Training and Earn-At-Home Systems. Now entering our 20th year in business! Thank you for helping to make Worldprofit the #1 choice for online earn at home training. Republished with author's permission by Ruthsella Corasol http://WorkingAtHome101.com